The Jungle Ruins
by shabooboo120
Summary: From metropolis to acropolis, a young man breaks away from his common life and buys a one way trip to destiny.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I grew up on Naboo. I used to stand on the shore of Kaadara and stare out to sea, waiting for something to come to me. One day, a group of grown men, some drunk, ran down to the beach, taunting the other beach goers and myself. I said nothing, but their presence irked me. They charged into the water, jumping and yelling in the waves. I hoped a big wave would come and knock them down. As I imagined what that would look like, a big wave, just as I pictured it, came and knocked those fools around. One of them was carried directly to my feet. He looked up at me, scared and embarrassed, and ran back into the water. I again imagined a wave come and knock that fellow back down and it did. It was as if I beckoned those waves to come. Looking back now, that was my first foray into wielding the force.

I became well-educated and well-adjusted on Naboo, studying the logistics of star port management. After years of working in the Theed Spaceport, it felt time to start my life anew, away from my parents. I yearned for the perils of intergalactic travel. Seeing ships the stardust cascade off of ships as they land filled my mind with wonder. Spacers young and old would fly threw, hot from adventure and with starlight in their eyes. People from all over the galaxy docked at Theed. Cargo of all sorts came from their ships. A spectacle of rarity landed before me every day. It was great to be of service to them, to the galaxy, but they had all the fun. They were the galaxy, I was just sitting there, watching it all happen. I knew how to fly. I knew how to run a spaceport. And I had a wanderlust, an excess energy to burn. So, one day, when a stripped down freighter was posted for sale on the local bazaar, I purchased it. I had acquired my very own star ship, a YT-1300. It flew like a dream. I furnished a living quarters, installed a few cargo racks, and mounted a legal laser turret.

I made money flying people and goods around the galaxy. It was all freelance work. One day, I took a hefty contract to fly some engineers out to an orbital space station in Yavin space. When I picked up those engineers, I felt trouble. For one, one of the engineers carried a pistol. I tried not to mind them, and I tried not to show off my ship's capabilities so my strange guests wouldn't get any funny ideas. When we docked at the station, they said I had come to their office for my payment. It was uncomfortable even leaving the docking bay. They tied me up with some nonsense for only about 15 minutes until I got my money. They tried to get me to shop and eat at their empty little market, but I went straight back to my ship. I undocked and started for the hyperspace lane when my ship's primary systems fell. They had salvaged all of the high end parts while I was gone. It was all a scam. But there was no time to fester in anger. Returning to the station would mean surrendering my ship. I set for a descending free fall to Yavin-4. Luckily, they had left emergency landing modules intact. I landed with only moderate damage to the hull of the ship. But, I had a hunch they wanted me to land safely so they could come back and steal the ship whole. I packed a backpack full of food and supplies, and with my handy blaster, made way for what I thought was an outpost, or at least an outcropping of some manmade structure on the coast, not far from where I landed. I packed at least enough food and water to reach my waypoint, and if need be, forage my way back to the ship.

Luckily, there was indeed a small mining outpost and private starport where I was headed. A middle aged man, named Hammil, unburdened by the rigors of core-world society, and seemingly still youthful and innocent due to the lack of heartache and women, ran a mining operation there. He also ran a cantina and rooms for rent. He welcomed me warm heartedly. He sympathized with my plight. He also offered me some paid work to set up seven new harvesters he recently purchased. He would give me 1000 credits for every one I successfully installed. I did so a lot quicker than he expected, but he was an honorable man and paid it all up. Plus, he knew I would end up spending most of it with him.

I was sitting outside the cantina one day. I had just finished browsing his galactic bazaar terminal which he used as a vendor to make purchases and sales. Although I enjoyed my time with Hammil, I needed to procure ship parts to return home, but it was tough going. There was nothing useful or interesting I could actually afford, but it was a fun way to pass the time on this fairly secluded planet.

Hammil was sitting outside his office. I grabbed a chair and sat down near him. After a while of silence, I reached into my pocket and grabbed a card that those engineer scammers had left with me. They had said, "Call us if you ever need any upgrades on that ship of yours." I recalled all this and my blood boiled. I couldn't believe I got screwed so badly. I just stared at the card and the damned thing shot into flames and vanished. Hammill looked at me like I was crazy. It had been a week now, and not until now did he look at me like a stranger. The occurrence was strange to me as well, but the seething anger coursing through my veins set me off into a stomping jaunt around the surrounding forest's tree line.

That night, I awoke in my hut to some unusual sound. I sat up on my cot and listened to what figured to be some rustling outside. I thought there could be an intruder, maybe one of those engineers or spiced out brigand. Up until that point, I had not seen any large creatures on the planet. I grabbed my blaster and stepped outside. The shadow of a figure, definitely humanoid, streamed into the shadows. This late at night, I did not dare chase it, but I stood for moment until it ran out of earshot. I went back to my cot and laid there until I naturally fell asleep.

The next morning, before I said anything about it, Hammill offered me another job. It was less of a job and more of a mission. "Look, you scare me, kid. Most people that come through here are weak, tired, dumb or lost. Whatever you got going on in that brain of yours seems to want to do something big, so you might be interested in this." He wanted me to check out some ruins that were rumored to begin about two kilometers north of the outpost. He had mentioned it before in passing. Apparently, he gets lots of visitors searching for treasure or adventure heading to those ruins. I asked him for as much information as he could give me. He started by telling me about how him and his brother when they were children - raised on this outpost which his father had started - saw a mysterious man in a hooded robe land here, ask about the area, and venture into the shadows never to return. He attached this old story to the myth of the ruins. He and his brother had always searched for it, but never found it. In fact, his brother took a search party and made it all the way to the Western shore of Yavin-4, an incredible distance, without finding it; and that's why his brother runs a similar outpost on the other side of the planet. They always joke that they'll meet in the middle of the planet's core. Anyway, he told me about how he had seen lots of treasure hunters come and go, fruitless, and how some people who he thought were not fit for such adventures never to return. But he said there was something mysterious about me, enough so that he had faith I would find the place. He lent me his speeder and a vibroblade. And off I went up the sandy beach.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Driving up the beach, white sands course between the tree line and dark green sea. The mist from the crashing waves and ocean breeze strike my face like tiny, sharp, stinging beads. The sand, soft and fine unlike that of Naboo, blows away beneath the speeder, faintly slowing me down as it absorbs some of the engine's thrust.

The speeder's meters read five kilometers. Near ahead, the beach appears to end at a cove. A large natural rock formation cuts off the shoreline. Its rocky jetty juts out to sea, a bit too far and jagged for my speeder. I slow to a stop. Still unsure if the flora is jungle or forest and generally unfamiliar with the entire terrain, I remain seated on the speeder, listening to the surrounding alien world. Small waves gently rolling. Water rippling over the ribbed sand as it recedes back to sea. Birds squawking. The hum of the speeder – I turn it off. It is distracting. Wind tries to blow through the trees, but is hushed. It is dense. Only the outermost leaves rustle. I hear no footsteps or shuffling or pounding. At once, I am reminded of that creature that shadowed through old Hammil's huts one night. Scanning all around, I can see nothing but sand, tree, and sea. The tree line is mostly even, but up ahead beyond the jutting rocks the height of the jungle canopy rises quite significantly. I park the speeder on a flat rock near where the sand turns to soil, and sidle off it. The stone feels dry and solid. The soil feels firm and the white sand is freckled with it. The ocean tide does not seem to rise up this high.

"This jungle looks impenetrable." It is wet and tangled with vines. I feel for my blaster, but that will do me no good now. Patting my belt line, I realize what I need. "Thanks, old man." He is not around to hear it, but I still express genuine gratitude for him. His vibroblade is fastened on the side of the speeder. I unhinge it from the clasps that are securing it and pull it off. Its weight balances on my palm. The hilt rolls down my fingers and rolls back to my palm as I make a fist. With a pulsating grip, the blade bounces and waves in the air, securely.

"Let's see." This jungle is too thick. It will be like hacking through bantha hide from here. I do not recall seeing any opening in it anywhere along the beach on my way up. This is hopeless. What was that old man thinking? Well, he did not say it was easy, but he thought I could do it. And it has never been done before? He said five kilometers up the beach. This is that. How does he know? He does not. Wait, what if he is in with those scamming engineers trying to steal my ship? No. No way. He does not even know where my ship landed. I feel like I trust him. We got along. He knows the area. This is his home. Ok, so he gave me a clue. I am on my own. Now, how good is this vibroblade he gave me? The blade is sharp and jagged.

This tree line is like the jungle's fortress walls. I grab a loose vine with my left hand and with one light slash, hack it clean off. The length of vine left held in my hand is strong, healthy, green and about an inch in diameter. It feels useful. The inclination to not waste it gives me an idea of its utility. The vibroblade has a ring hanging off the bottom of its hilt that the vine fits snuggly through. Holding both ends of this fresh cut rope, the vibroblade slides down mid-length and hangs suspended in the air. I wrap the vine around my stomach. "Oh, this would make a good belt." I bring it back in front of me and pause. It fits slung around my torso like an ammunition belt too, but I do not like how and where the blade hangs. It will get in my way like this. The blade is heavy. If I hook to it my pants, it sags down. I cut off another vine of equal length. This one is barely thinner. I drive the tip of the blade into the sand to lean it against my leg. I tie the thicker vine high around my waist, above my hips. Then, knot one end of the thinner vine onto the belt vine, sling it over my shoulder, around my neck and knot that other end to the belt, too, serving as a counterweight to the blade. Clipping the hilt back onto the belt, it feels securely balanced on my side. It is good that the hilt's clip is retractable. This button releases it, so I do not have to tie and untie the vine to use it. Blaster holstered on my right, vibroblade on my left – that feels fine. At least I got something out of this jungle. You cannot even see past a few feet into it, it is so thick. I will get stuck if I force my way through. It will tire me out way too much to try to clear a path, and that still would not be effective.

Taking a deep breath, I resolve to try for the rocks. Let's just see how far we can go around them. They look fairly flat for the most part. As far as the eye can see, it looks manageable. But about fifty feet ahead, there is a bend. At least go that far.

The rocks are dark grey; black when wet. They are smooth like giant stone pebbles. Dug into the ground as if they grew from it, they are fixed and strong, steady against the waves. Making way around the speeder and over the first few evenly laid boulders, I check to make sure the vibroblade is secure and proceed with caution. The waves crash up to here. Spray hits my lower legs. Should I roll my pants up? I hate wet clothes. No, I would rather not scrape my legs if I slip. The rocks are getting slick. Creeping along a few rocks, leaping onto another, crawling to the next big one, I climb up the last rock boulder that stands promontory at the bend I aimed for. The view opens up and I see another bay which appears to harbor an inlet stream.

There must be a river or lagoon on that side. Clearly, the entrance to the jungle interior exists over there. It is not too far, maybe a kilometer, or a little more than half a mile, to that next beach. At least four hundred feet of rock outcrop straight ahead until the next bend. I made it this far easy enough. I could try this. A look out to sea shows the ocean horizon. The sky is clear. I cannot see the sun, but it is still early morning. No storm looks to be brewing. There could be some danger with those waves crashing about midway past this rock ledge. After a few wave sets pass, I conclude it is nothing too dangerous. Off I set, down this boulder, sliding gradually lower onto the rocks below. From here on they are mostly even, but the height of the rock I just came from is a bit discomforting. If I have to get back, there is a wet, slippery climb waiting for me.

Glad not to be going back, I focus on the path ahead. Easy enough, I hip hop along the rocks. A good amount of progress is made, about fifty feet. That is pretty good. No problem. These rocks are a bit more rocky. Just some turbulence. I jump around softly, making sure not to slip, and climb onto one big rock that is just about four feet higher than the others.

"Whoa," that is a big drop all of a sudden. Down beneath, there is about a sixty foot tide wide pool. The rocks down there redden with specks of yellow. The tide pool space seems alive and breathing. Small pools of water swirl in its shallow recesses that tiny creatures critter around. And at the other end, it looks like a ten foot high rock pile to climb back up. Is there any way around this? To the left, there is just a tall, flat rock wall. The tide pool is too vast to use this wall as a boost to run and jump across. To the right is the ocean. I do not want to swim if I do not have to. Plus if I dive in, there may be a deep current or some sharp rocks I can not see right now. That could really hurt me, even kill me if I get dragged out to sea or smash my skull. Hmm. waves come in every few seconds. If I try to run across, I would surely get hit by them. They are small waves, but they might knock me out at my knees, and it will be too wet to run fast. If the tide rises, maybe I can just swim across. No, the sea might suck me out. I will have to walk across quickly, and soon. Ok, these waves are coming in in sets of three. No, that was a set of four. Looks calm now. "Ooh," I fight the impulse to go. For about ten seconds, the tide pool looks clear after three sets of three waves, and one set of four. Ok, this is manageable. Now how can you climb up on the other side? Where would it be possible?

Scanning the opposing ledge, I do not see any short rocks to step onto first. It looks like four big boulders, each approximately ten feet high. There is no discerning any variation between them, nothing to use as a boost. Jumping, maybe I could touch their tops, but that will not help me none. Blasted tide pool, what am I supposed to do? Frustrating. Don't get flustered. Ah, without thinking twice, I blast a laser shot from my hip. Before I can holster my blaster again, I hear a sharp clang echo out from the middle of the tide pool. The blast did not ricochet off the rocks. Where did it go…

Before a haunting bellow rings out, a low rumble vibrates at some depth beneath the rocks. The ground shakes into a single quake. I lose my footing but quickly regain it as I squat for bracing with my hands out in front me to balance. Silence and calm hush the area for a moment. I do not move a muscle. A small wave washes over the tide pool. Before it recedes, a spray of mist jets out of the center of the ground. This is no tide pool.

Sarlacc! Great beast of muscle and teeth! Twenty feet high into the air, its worm like body writhes, and at the peak of its rise, it whirls and roars. Slime from its fangs fall from the sky. It slams across the rock face and slaps down on the sea. All is frozen, in fear of this beast of eternity! Including me. It wrings its body, bursting belches of toxic air and spittle over the entire area and onto the sea. A faint gas makes me lightheaded. It sinks back into its hole for less than a moment before it bellows back and springs out forth.

Awoken from its slumber, it rages to and fro, ceaselessly. How dare I gain composure from fear of this fatal foe? Fleeing feels like no option. I have come this far. Confronting this grand obstacle, this must be the way to go. Stumbling back, I fall on my rear, knocked down and forced to sit on hard, wet rock. Shock settles into numb dumbness. A sarlacc pit. I was going to walk over that.

The sarlacc continues its war. As my senses return, I gain a focus through a respectful fear of this giant monster roaring and bellowing at the whole world. It cannot reach me from here. I drag myself back several feet just to be sure. But, my eyes start to close, vision is foggy, my head sways back and forth. I cannot stay here. I have got to go. Dizzily rising, clambering across the rocks – take a deep breath – and jump! Leap out to sea!

I jumped out far. For a moment, I flew. Far from the rocks, I pierced the sea at an angle with outstretched arms and glided under the surface of the water horizontally. The cold splash awakened me.

Kicking and swimming thrust me into a short cruise father yet. I must be thirty feet from the rocks by now. Go out further, deeper, a feeling urges me. There could still be foaming spittle floating on the water above me. I am so scared. Eyes sealed shut, my face is scrunched up. What if it swims out to get me? Imagination generates the anticipation of a force coming at me from beneath. I can feel the water pressure around me like a tangible manifestation of fear. From all directions, fear besieges me like the inundating sea. Suspended in terror, I curl into a ball, flinching, and buoy on my side before sinking slowly into the deep.

As I descend, my fear stops growing, but fluctuates incessantly. Fear of the sarlacc, fear of its pit, waiting for the rocks, fearing the unknown depths, I wait for nature to do its bidding upon me. As soon as I let go of my bodily fear and accept my seemingly sealed fate, a stream of bubbles tickle up the soles of my feet. An "oof" bubbles out as I get the wind knocked out of me. Straight into my gut I feel a dull, punching blow. My body pulses as my arms and legs fly forward, while back arches and bows.

Rushing currents stream past me as an aquatic gundark drives me with its long snout, forward in its direction, right past the sarlacc pit and over the dark watery depth that dwelled below. Clearing danger, across my fears, this angel of nature, some stranger of the sea, struck me to safety, and saved me from near fatality.

What new fear is this, now? Equal in magnitude, but different in imagery. Through fear, I understand the sarlacc and the sea. What once was a terrifying mystery is now clear. But now I am at the whim of this strange beast, turning me over and pushing my feet, propelling me forward at a great speed. Will it give me heed or eat me!? Is this the end or my salvation? Bursting forth, my savior launches me up out of the sea. Surrendering completely, I shoot out from the water's surface with flailing arms. Gliding in the air, my body feels heavy and I land on the sand with a thump, bouncing and rolling to safety.

Flopping like a fish, gasping for air. Fear leaves me so rapidly it feels like the pores in my skin would tear open. Finally, I start to catch my breath. My body still shocked, my mind unfreezing, I still could not open my eyes. Yet, I feel the low gradient slope of the beach and its comforting warmth. I uncurl from a ball and lay out on my stomach. The sand - the soft white sand - fills my hands as I push myself up and run stumbling away from the shore blindly. My eyes are still closed. I will not look back, nor will I look forward, still traumatized from what felt like an entire lifetime of inescapable doom and calamity.

Run. Fall. Get back up. Run. Go. Go. Go. Do not go back. Run. Keep going, my mind tells me. Keep your eyes closed. Keep running. Escape, in fear, from reality. That was so scary. I will only know fear from here on out. I am going to die, dropped into eternity - if not by beast, then by drowning. Breathe. You are saved. Look where you are now, safe and free. Stop running, slow, calm down. Breathe, again. It is ok to be scared. This is a healthy fear. Open your eyes, now.

Standing beneath the shade of the jungle canopy at the top of the slope of the high beach, I see nothing but green tree and white sand again. This looks safe. Turning around reveals the calm inlet stream I had earlier seen and aimed for. Tracing its course to the sea reveals another rocky jetty I would have had to navigate. And another thousand feet passed the awe inspiring sarlacc still wailing out of its pit as a distant spectacle, like a painted feature of the land, like the rocks and the sea. I still have the vibroblade and blasted blaster around me, thankfully.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The trees line the beach as far as the eye can see. It looks stubbornly uniform, thirty feet high, almost artificial like a wall, and as foreboding as the opposing sea - the very sea that cuts into the jungle through that inlet river behind me. The river is slow and shallow. A narrow, sandy shore lines it for quite a while. I do not see any wood or cuttable trees right around here, but it looks like I will not need a raft for now. Turning around, scanning the area near and far reveals no notable landmarks. Again, there is nothing on this side of the sarlacc besides green tree and sea. Well, besides the inlet. It has to get easier from here. There is nowhere else to go.

Before making my way along the river, I check my vibroblade to see if it still ignites. I have never used one before and am not sure if it can take water damage. My blaster can. It will be fine. Good, the blade looks dry. Squeezing the handle starts the blade, making it vibrate and hum. It whirs so fast, its jagged edge blurs. It is a good sword, feeling no different to wield ignited or off. It does carry a little bit more momentum when it swings, on, if I wave it and turn it, but it is a faint pull and easy enough to learn how to balance. Now, turned off and clipped back onto my hip, I set off toward another corner I cannot see around. This inlet river cuts through rock and jungle. Any way out of here – this is my only hope.

The beach on this side is not so flat. I had run onto high ground after being tossed ashore by that mysterious sea creature. I look back once more at the fearsome sarlacc. It still rages wildly, but I do not fear its haunting bellows and fatal fangs. It looks flaccid and distant, with an impotent rage. It is a threat no more. Now I know what one may look like. Armed with an intimate familiarity and the experience of survival, I move on cautiously but sure.

My feet sink slightly into the soft sand as I walk down the low slope to the river. There is not much in my purview to figure what to expect. The water looks slow and easy, almost placid. There seems to be a sand shore for a couple kilometers, about a mile or two. It looks like just jungle up ahead. This inlet might cut through it, better than any vibroblade could. Either it pools into a lagoon or tapers off completely into a creek or a spring. Any change in scenery at all will be welcomed. There might be another clue to the ruins or a path back to the outpost. Maybe there will be a trail that leads back to my ship. It wrecked in a fairly open field. I took the clearest route out to the outpost but I remember there were many other ways to possibly go.

With one hand on my blaster and the other in front of my sword, I kept up the river keeping keen of threats from the water or the jungle, above and below. This river is shallow. It does not appear to host any fish, just stirring dirt and natural debris that fall from the canopy and loose ends of the roots of the trees. Still, I will proceed with caution. What I thought was a tide pool to walk across turned out to be a sarlacc pit, after all. I need a refresher. The jungle looks thinner here, sparser. There is still a ways up this river, but let me see if there is a place to take a breather within these trees. The tree line begins a few meters higher than the water line. There are about three meters of flat sand until it begins to slope and meet the trees. But here is a little alcove. The landscape is not any more unique here, but it is not so uniform. If the jungle and the river are racing, the river has the jungle beat around a slight turn here, so it has carved a bit of open area of sandy beach.

Now, I am not going to fall into another near death experience, but I will not be so broken by trauma that I cannot stop for lunch. It looks to be about midday. All this excitement has me famished. I cannot become exhausted. I still cannot see into the jungle from here. It is still dense. If anything comes out of it, I should hear it passing through all these branches and leaves. I can turn my back on it. Animals from the water could swim and crawl out silently. I would rather keep my eyes on that. Plus, sunlight glimmering water might entertain me while I eat. The path ahead and behind looks clear. Calmly, I look about. Wondering if the river is sea water or fresh, I reach down and cup a handful of it. By the time I bring it to my lips, most of it seeps through my fingers, but I taste enough to tell its brackish – no good to drink. I do not want to attract any animals from the jungle, so I will relieve myself in the water then. I will have to make my water last, now.

I plop myself on the sand and swing my backpack around. What's for lunch? Bofa treats, dustcrepe and meat jerky. A few travel biscuits for terrain negotiation. Some exo-protein wafers, too. Dustcrepe cures disease. I better save that. I just need a pick me up. I should definitely start with one wafer. There looks to be about twenty in this bag. They are orange and as big as a small lump of coins. Not bad. Pretty bland. Let's see. Yuck, this meat jerky is nasty. It tastes like womprat meat. I chew on what I bit off, grimacing, and put the rest back in its bag. I wonder how much these travel biscuits will help. They are supposed to make you move faster off road. I only have five. Eating half of one, it is hard to resist eating more because they are so savory. Those bofa treats look good, too. Some sort of dried fruit, they taste sweet and crunchy. Not a bad lunch. Thanks, old man. Again, he is not around but I am sure he can sense my gratitude. Washing it down with a small gulp of water restores my vigor. A sense of vitality rushes through me as I rise to my feet and swing the backpack around.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

What becomes of a broken spirit? Tossed aside by fellow souls, thrown away into the sea of last resorts, saved by destiny only to find itself flowing through the river of uncertainty. Will it harbor resentment or float along in acceptance? At what point should it kick and turn? Determine its will. Find a path and run with it.

So, I run. Along the river bank, I go. All packed up, rested, and restored. Not quite sure where I am going, but going forward in a direction away from known dangers. That sarlacc was terrifying, but I do not have to face it anymore. It is far behind me, now. Though there may be more on this planet, I know what one may look like: a reddish, yellow ground and a tubular opening. Sure, it could be hidden, but even if it surprises me, I could surely find a way out. I escaped it once, I could escape again if need be. I should be careful to avoid any narrow enclosing. Keep one way forward and one way out, at least, at all times. These are my thoughts as I sprint on the sand of the river's shore. The terrain is unchanging, but the jungle wall is getting closer now. I better slow. Proceed with caution from here – my mind coaches me.

As the inlet ends its course, it is swallowed by jungle. Its fifteen meter width narrows to one meter, trickling at the roots of the trees. It does not disrupt the jungle growth, but it does seem to flow on into it, less than a foot deep. Curious, I stoop and walk closely toward it. You can hear a hollow echo of water flowing on farther than you can see. As I squat lower and lean forward stooping over this stream, a frog from behind skips past me and hops into the jungle without hesitation. Startled, I stand back up and quickly look behind me. "What," where did that come from? Before a second thought tries to answer, I find myself jumping into the ankle deep water, darting after it. The frog has a long a body, with clearly discernable shoulders, abdomen, and hind legs. Bluish-grey, uniformly colored, but shimmering a reflection where sunlight hit it. Down in this water and under these vines and trees, no light gets in and it is hard to see. But moving fast forward, hunched and stooping low, brushing hanging branches out of the way with my arms outreached ahead of me, I soon see the frog hopping along again. It is not going terribly fast, but it does not stop or slow. I can keep up with it speed, no problem, but any hesitation on my part or obstacle could make me lose track of it. The creek is still shallow and thin, and the area around is packed with brush snagging on the loose fabric of my shirt. Mud starts to cover my boots. Water splashes onto my socks and ankles. You would get wrapped in tree vines if you stand up all the way, or hit your head on a branch. I still see it hopping.

Where did it go? Oh, the water is getting deeper. It is jumping in and out of sight, disappearing for a second as it dives blow, then emerging effortlessly as it jumps forward. Yea, this creek is getting deeper. I wonder if the frog will slow. Now, it starts swimming. As I feel the water level rising above my knees, I figure to swim like the frog. I try to jump and dive in, but am stuck at the feet. Lunging forward, muscles in my leg pull and squeeze, but to no avail. I do not budge. Before a brief panic sets in, I check on the frog. It is still going, kicking its arms and legs rapidly but not swimming very fast. At its pace, considering how much space is visible ahead, I should be able to keep it in view for about a minute or two. My feet will not come out of this mud. My arms pull up on my thighs, but I still do not come unstuck. An impulse flashes to shoot the frog with my blaster, but that is just fear and frustration kicking in. I will not blast out at anything like that again. This mud has got a hold of me. My feet will not slip out of it. My legs will not rise. I sigh and lurch forward.

A deep breath of surrender relaxes me. My feet sink about an inch down. It is not the way I would like to go, but it is movement. Granted, what do I know about this jungle's marsh land? I have heard about not fighting against Tatooinian quicksand, so maybe this is the way to go. Just relax.

Shuffling forward, I sink lower and lower. The mud is just above my ankles and the water is rising past my knees. I am not sinking any deeper into the mud, but rather deeper into the water. The mud drags me with it as it slopes down lower into a mysterious murky depth. I keep sliding my feet forward. The frog is getting farther, but it is still swimming in view, its tiny, muscular legs kicking rapidly. "Where are we going?" I beg, desperately. Looking around, I see some looping vines hung above me, but they are out of reach. I am now waist deep and the blaster and vibroblade float alongside me. The water still rises; or, I still sink. The mud drags me deeper and deeper. The water level rises ever higher. Up to my chest now. My arms raise overhead as my chest twists and heaves, wading forward. Almost up to my neck, the water gets colder. Am I going under? I wonder. I look down to check and my nose nearly gets wet. Facing back up to look forward, I no longer see that frog I have been chasing. I cannot tell what is in front of me, but it is impossibly black. A dark mass. As the water touches my neck, I gasp and gulp in air for a deep breath. My chin dips into it. As I reach up again, my face gets briefly submerged and my breathe bubbles out underwater. Swelling my chest lifts my head up just enough to take one last deep breathe. My arms fall and my head is fully under. All I feel is cold water and the tight grip of mud at my ankles. What a mess. I have tried all day to get into this jungle, through rock and monster. It is no wonder that, once inside, the journey gets harder.

I trudge through the mud, which feels like it is getting looser around my feet. However, the water is getting warmer and thicker. An odd sensation, feeling as though I am floating in heavy space, only an exaggerated motion of walking propels me forward.

I am about half out of breathe and I cannot feel anything above or under. Eyes are shut. Open them? No, that will be bad. I am not going to die, I think to myself just before a rush of fear shudders every sense. Sensing no end to this morass, slogging imperceptibly forward, hysterical panic causes my chest to convulse as my lungs tighten and mind asphyxiates. In a moment of thoughtlessness while still trudging forward, my foot kicks a wall. The bump awakens me. Reaching up out above the water, my hand feels the lip of a rounded ledge, rocky and coarse to grip. I pull myself up with both hands and emerge, gasping for breath. Lifting up past the chest, I get to my knees, on all fours, dripping wet. Desperation leaves me. I crawl forward, clamoring and panting. The ground below is hard and covered with a thin layer of dirt. Turning around and falling back to sit down, I see that above the water was a thick tangled mound of earthen jungle. I sigh in relief that I have once again escaped seemingly near death. There is really now way out of this mess. I pull muddy weeds off my boots and body. This time, I do not even feel the trauma set in. I twist back around and lift myself up with both hands planted into the ground and stumble forward. Fully upright now, I take another deep breathe. Slightly leaning back, I can see all around. A half ruined dome encircles above. Behind me, its light grey stone walls bear effortlessly against the high earthen mound. Ahead, an archway stands. Are these the forewarned forlorn ruins?

Out through this dome, a clear trodden path winds through an open field, still dark and shaded completely by the vast and high jungle canopy. The air is warm and damp. I feel more relaxed. The space is quite open, but there are no more ruins. Randomly dispersed are flowers and plants. Oh, what is this? A five leafed flower of white petals shaded pink, and freckled with red dots, as wide as a dewback, with a green stem as tall as a human. The fact that it is not obviously poisonous or carnivorous relaxes me. After another harrowing experience, a moment of peace is suspiciously comforting. What is next? I do not see any traps around here, nor sense an immediate danger. Where is that frog? He almost got me killed, yet he feels like a friend.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

What have I gotten myself into? What is this place? Are these the ruins the old man spoke of? It cannot be. There is only one half standing dome. Impressive, sure. Usually, only advanced civilizations know how to build domes. But, there are not any more structures or stone. There must be more, but where? This space looks same all around: sparsely populated fauna under a tall canopy that completely blots out the sky. It is not so dark, but I cannot make out what is in the distance. There appears a radiant grey fog with a bright yellow glow within – naturally luminous, not artificially lit. It surrounds the whole area seemingly locking it in, but looks suspended far off.

The mound I came from under is part of a massive dirt wall that extends squarely, straight out to its sides. I could follow it along and see where it takes me, but, there is this path that leads out of the archway. It disappears after several feet. I will stick to the direction it points.

This is crazy. Why am I here? This is the interior of the jungle I have been dying to get to - the adventure I dreamed of on Naboo. I guess it would be possible to turn back now, but that would be insane. I wonder if any of those folk Hammil mentioned ever made it this far.

I will just sit on this big stone and gather my senses. Kicking it twice to make sure it is not another trap or alien reveals nothing. It is comfortable to rest on. I think, with my feet up on its face and my face leaning against my hand, looking down and out, for a moment.

"Hey!" There goes that frog again, out from under the archway.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Hey!" Does it recognize me? Does it care? "You know, you almost got me killed, lil' guy." The frog looks unfazed, hopping around aimlessly. It must have had a reason to get here, some primal instinct leading it to safety or food. Maybe this is its home or mating grounds. It looks quite sure of itself. After passing through the stone archway it circles around in an odd, oval pattern. Is it communicating? No, it cannot be. It does not react to me hopping off the rock and approaching it. Though, it will not let me close enough to it to try to catch it. It frolics away. I am not going to follow it anymore. Maybe it will follow me. I have got to get out of here anyway. Daylight should be about for another few hours. I will need to find a safe place to camp before it gets dark. By the way this trip has been faring, that will be another nightmare.

I have got to find some sun to dry off. I hate wearing wet clothes. The dampness - it clings to you. It chafes when you walk. It drips into your shoes and little beads of water trickle down your skin like some sort of Twi'lek torture method. It is unnerving. I shake off the last excesses of water and pick up the backpack off the ground. At least the contents of it are dry inside. "Come on, frog. Let's go this way." I set off in the direction that the archway path points. The frog does not appear to follow at first, but it does, just in a slow, roundabout way.

There is an aura oddly comforting about this place. It is quiet and warm, misty and dark. You cannot see the outside world. It almost feels underground, or, like a womb of some sort. Strange. I pulse my shoulders up to jostle my backpack into a comfortable position on my back and keep walking straight through the resistance of wet clothes.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

That frog and I have been walking for almost an hour now. Nothing is changing. The scenery repeats itself like stars in hyperspace. On the contrary though, I am going nowhere fast. My clothes are still uncomfortably damp, but they are not dripping wet or sticking to my skin so much anymore. How much longer will I have to trudge along before this path gives? Hanging my despondent head down, I observe the ground. It is comprised of moist dirt with wood chips and small rocks. I kick a twig. The surrounding trees are quite big. Their trunks are about three feet wide, brown with grey streaks under soft, loose, fibrous bark. They grow high, but they are not what makes this canopy so massively wide spread. Giant pale trees, almost three times larger, are distributed every seventy feet or so. The brown ones are barren; only wispy strings of deadmoss hang from them. But these are humongous and offshoot long green limbs as big as the more common trees, and sprout long supple branches lush with foliage. That is what forms the impenetrable roof the canopy.

The fog appears nearer by now. It is an alien sight. Expecting another calamity, I slow down and contemplate reaching for my blaster or vibroblade. Instinctively, I draw the blaster from its holster and hold it cautiously low by my hip. As I near the fog, I face its mystery. A white mist rolls against my face. Imperceptibly sourced within it is a pale golden glow. It has no scent. If it were toxic, I would be dead or feel sick by now. Could it be alive? The heat off of some monster? No way. It cannot be. I stop walking and holster the blaster. The fog stretches for miles all around. No creature exists so large. It is either the threshold of another natural terror or the gateway to destiny. Either way, I will advance through it. My maddening mind is now callous to fright. The repeated trauma of near death in a such a short time as today has so consumed my psyche that I unwittingly crave it more of it. Have I conquered fear or has fear conquered me?

Drawn to the unknown, I reach into the fog feeling nothing but condensed moisture like a suspended ocean sea. My hand disappears into the dense mist. I gaze lost and perplexed. Just then, the frog jumps into my peripheral view, straight into the mystic brume. "Hey!" Instinctively, again, I shout at the frog as it disappears, then jump start to follow it. What will it get me into now?

Running and squinting, I could not see past a few inches ahead. My arms waved to clear a path for some vision, but I would barely see my own nose if I tried to look at it. Yet, I kept running in the direction that the frog seemed to go. What I actually ran through took only moments to pass. From an outsider's perspective, you would see me in and out in a flash. However, it felt like an eternity while in it.

All went silent, the jungle birds and clicking critters, but a low, dull, deafening hum. I went insane inside, lost in that fog. Unmoving, far out in the distance, remained fixed that vague, golden glow, ostensibly unattainable like one's own future. Thoughts and memories rushed my mind. An unending parade of my livelong past mocked me in vain glory of my unceremonious life. Visions of old haunts made me wince in cringing reflection. Taunted by a cavalcade of old familiar voices, I stumbled and tripped in fearful humiliation and hesitation.

"You are a fool." "You are wrong. You are making a mistake." Condemnations of all sorts struck me branded like a hot iron. "Why would you leave Naboo?"

"Are you giving up? You quit? What is wrong with him? He is weak. What a loser." "He must be sick." "Crazy." "Look at him running. How pathetic. What a waste." "Oh, poor boy. He has lost his mind." "He is delusional." "Do not quite your day job. You are not cut out for space." "Pitiful." "What do you know about ships? The galaxy is a dangerous place." "You will make good credits working in the spaceport. You will be set. Your life is laid out for you so neatly." "You went to the Royal Academy for nothing, spoiled brat." "You are wasting all our time."

"No, do not take off. Stay grounded." "No, do not leave us." "How dare you chase your dreams! What about mine?" "How dare you fly." "You cannot be courageous if we will not." "We are scared. We need you. Do not leave us." "Who will do whatever we say?" "You were such a good boy." "We had you squared away." "Your life was in order. It made sense to us." "We do not want to see you hurt." "We don't want to have to think about you anymore." "Just come back." "Come back here, slave!"

At that last thought, I raged. I would be scared no longer. If I can survive a crash landing, if that sarlacc could not kill me, if the jungle mire could not drown me, I will come out of this fog stronger than ever!"

Although only a few seconds transpired in reality, it felt so much longer than that. As I emerged, I felt a whoosh of wind rush around my senses to fill the void, as if time had been slowed to a single grain of sand and then stormed all at once to catch back up its seconds.

A heavy experience, that was. I found myself jogging a little farther to move ahead of the fog. I looked back and it was gone. The fog had disappeared without a trace. All you could see was denser jungle where the fog once lay. Sun shone on the meadow to which I emerged. I kept walking forward with my hands on my hips, disturbed and exhausted. I just wanted to move on. It took several moments to get my mind and reality aligned together in present time.

Great, there is that frog again, and now it has got a friend. Oh, a girl friend. "Good for you, buddy." I huff out a weak laugh. What is going to happen next? I wonder. This is one surreal jungle.

A hill now lies before me. This will be the easiest obstacle of the day. It is fairly steep, rising about forty feet at sixty degrees. At first, my feet sink a little and I slide back down a tiny bit every time I step into its soft, damp topsoil. Leaning forward as I climb, I press my hands down on my thighs to generate extra momentum up. I stumble a few times, catching myself by clawing into the hillface to keep my place. With a few pants and sighs and couple of hands full of dirt, I make it to the top. What reveals itself is a site like no other: the ruined remains of a pyramidal temple now torn asunder.

Impressive though it would be to see any presence of civilization so deep in this jungle, the temple in terms of sheer magnitude in size does not seem so grand. The peak of its grandeur lies in its sharply conical spires that pierce the misty sky hundreds of feet, ninety meters high. The rest of the layout is not so clear. There is no discernible entrance. Just like the jungle, its grounds look uniform all around. But if I have learned anything from this experience, it is that there is always a way in a slip in appearance, a path to advance. Circling around all four corners of the temple, I see no entrance yet. There is not much walkable ground to explore. A dirt trail twirls around and about collapsed ceilings, columns, and ruined walls. Figurative drawings etch these coarse grey stones. It was built at the foot of a small mountain that commences at the top of the hillground. Beyond the pillars and what looks to be sorts of gardens or ritual grounds is the usual jungle again.

I will pause for a moment. Thirsty, I flip around my backpack and pull out a canteen. As I toss my head back, I catch a glimpse of the late afternoon sun. A curious sensation flutters a thought. I feel certain. There is no need to worry. I will know what to do. The sun is setting past the rising slope of the mountain's base. It is not quite evening yet, but it will soon be dark. I would be wise to find shelter now. Putting back my drink, I keep thinking about the sun. Turning to face it, I feel funny. A hunch says the sunset is a clue. Maybe Hammil knows something about this place. I wish he told me more. Did he? "Darn. Shoot." I figured I would see some skeletons littered along the way or a dead man's treasure map. Nothing. I should check out that spot where the ground seems to touch the sun. It stands at a height that should provide a good look at the entire temple's ground. I make my way up a long, gently sloping ascent to the spot where the planet's surface eclipsed my view the sunset. The spot that provides a fair vista of the temple, and the full height of the canopy, with a sliver of green sea in the distance. From here, the horizon is open sky – a breath of fresh air. It brings me peace thinking about all the space up there. A whole galaxy awaits for me to explore. Sure, my starship may be crashed, but one way or the other I can get off of this rock. I just have to stay alive. This hope comforts me, distracting from the present reality and giving me a reason to live – extra motivation to survive.

"Ok, let's see." The temple is not very tall. Kind of sharp and craggy. I have never seen pyramids so lean and bunched up together like this. They look more like spires or an outgrowth of stalagmite rock in a cave. It looks mean, scary, like a spike pit. It is built before the slope of the mountain atop the flat crest of the smaller hill that piles into the foot of the mountain. It is easy to see the whole of the temple's outer walkway littered with columns and pillars. The grounds look symmetrical. What's that on the far side? I cannot quite make it out. Hm. It looks like there are a few extra structures in that corner than in the rest. That is the only difference I can see. Looking back down at the way I came up from, then back to that anomalous spot, I match up my route and destination and head back down. With a quick pace, nearly flying, I skip downhill.

"Here we go. That is the spot." I approach the area confidently and upright. "There are extra columns over here. It looks different. It feels different." At this corner of the ruins stand two pillars in good shape. Two more spill diagonally from them, fallen onto the ground. And between them is a perfectly shaped, triangular chasm, flush against the light slope of the hill. It is a threshold to a white stone corridor that shoots a fair way quite steeply underground.

This is going to be dangerous, my blaster tells me as it asks to be held. Good idea. Night will fall soon and this will be better than any shelter I can build, I reassure myself as I cautiously walk in slow with blaster in hand.

The structure is impressive, forebodingly strong. Clean and untouched, it has apparently held off this planet's jungle growth for a mighty long time. A hundred meters down this tunneling chamber turns the corner to another slanted ramp descending below in the reverse direction.

It looks more like a tomb inside than a temple, with its narrow, shooting tunnels. The floor is flat, and the two walls lean into each other forming a triangle. A straight luminescent line lit up streams through the center ceiling of this triangular hallway. What is it made of? No way this place still has a power source running. It looks ancient. Who could have built it? Yavin's moons never had any civilization. Whoever made this here must have been kept in secret. This place must be special. My curiosity continues, but better judgment tells me to silence my thoughts. They feel loud and intrusive like they are disturbing - someone is listening - some group of people trying to focus. There is another turn, a blind corner. The final hallway. The floor flattens out at the bottom of this one, another 100 meters down.

Now finally down those white stone corridors, I am faced with a wall slightly darker, greyer, and covered in motifs like those that decorated the ruins outside. Archaic symbols, a language I cannot read nor recognize. Crudely carved figures of beasts and people and strange straight lines. At the center, an unwelcoming bestial face leers at whoever stands before it. As I slowly near it, I feel a short rumble and stop. It is the door to another hallway. It rises all the way up, sliding through stone with no apparent pulley or lever, just barely grinding against the sides of the walls. An automatic door that slides vertically, made of stone? This place begins to seem less ruined and more alive.

There are several more hallways with similarly decorated doors. They lead on, further deep into the mountainside, but flat and level, not any lower in gradient. I must be at the bottom of whatever this is. Some turn left and some turn right and some go straight ahead. There is no option or choice of doors, just one way to go. Which is fine. Otherwise, I would get lost among all these narrow corridors. Finally, through the last door, I spill out into a wide open space: the bottom floor of some sort of arena, with overhanging mezzanines and balconies overhead.


End file.
